


Courtesy Laughs

by ghoulaesthetics (astraielle)



Series: Cat Ryder vs. The Universe [1]
Category: Mass Effect - All Media Types, Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, alternate title for the fic is: ryder doesn't want any fucking kids and no one gives her shit for it, jaal is a good egg he's an understanding man, ryder is an idiot when it comes to feelings & expressing them properly, they talk about the future and thank god that one of them is calm about it, wherein i project onto ryder & people arent dicks about the decision for a change
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 16:41:34
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,485
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11559243
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/astraielle/pseuds/ghoulaesthetics
Summary: Cat Ryder was good at avoiding her problems. Actually, she was quite good at avoiding lots of things. Being dead, for example. Awkward conversations with ex-partners who somehow miraculously managed to find her six hundred years post-breakup (to be fair, though, it wasn’t too difficult to locate The Pathfinder when she was on the Nexus).Her avoidance specialty, though, was her emotions.She’d been stuffing the worry down for weeks–months, really, ever since meeting with Jaal’s family on Harvarl. They were amazing, if not a little overwhelming just in the sheer number of them. She wasn’t so used to so many people being interested in her at once. She couldn’t blame them though. At the time they hadn’t agreed to ‘officially’ be together yet, but she was sure that his relatives already had a pretty good idea of what she meant to him. Angara weren’t shy with their feelings, after all. Not like she could be.





	Courtesy Laughs

**Author's Note:**

> okay so this is,,, very self indulgent lol. a lot of people write their ryder/jaal wanting/having kids during their romance. and thats great! for them. but personally, i literally can’t stomach the idea of having children of any sort (for lots of personal reasons & also the fact that i just dont like them that much) (I’ve actually blocked some people from the tag for this reason so if we’ve never spoke & you’re blocked & this is a subject you’ve done work on IM SORRY ITS NOT YOU IM JUST A WEAK BITCH) and it’s hard for me to imagine my ryder wanting them either for that reason. so, here. have some jaal being supportive of his girl who doesn’t want a family & happy with them aas a couple regardless. ( & who knows? maybe this’ll help someone else feel good too) 
> 
> anyway before you ask yes im projecting & yes the idea of parenthood is one i find extremely triggering lmao, i really do wish people would stop asking me when i'll 'grow up' and to 'think of my poor husband' (jokes on them i only date women anyway) and how i'll 'regret it someday'. mcfuck off and have them for yourself if its so important. 
> 
> so. anyway. here's some suport. remember, jaal loves you any which way you decided to deal with reproduction, including not reproducing at all.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Cat Ryder was good at avoiding her problems. Actually, she was quite good at avoiding lots of things. Being dead, for example. Awkward conversations with ex-partners who somehow miraculously managed to find her six hundred years post-breakup (to be fair, though, it wasn’t too difficult to locate The Pathfinder when she was on the Nexus). 

Her avoidance specialty, though, was her emotions. 

She’d been stuffing the worry down for weeks–months, really, ever since meeting with Jaal’s family on Harvarl. They were amazing, if not a little overwhelming just in the sheer number of them. She wasn’t so used to so many people being interested in _her_ at once. She couldn’t blame them though. At the time they hadn’t agreed to ‘officially’ be together yet, but she was sure that his relatives already had a pretty good idea of what she meant to him. Angara weren’t shy with their feelings, after all. Not like she could be. 

But being there, pleasant as it had been, had planted a seed of fear in her, so to speak. That there was a timed expiration on her relationship with Jaal. That he would eventually want to settle down and have a family with her, a large one too, because he really did seem to love that sort of thing. And she would have to break it off with him. There was no way she could give that to him, ever. It wasn’t even just the physical act of being pregnant that repulsed her so much (it was part of it, but she wasn’t even certain they were genetically compatible enough for that to happen), but the very idea of being called someone’s mother sent her into a panicked flurry each time, shaking as she desperately tried to change the subject and laugh it off as nothing. She couldn’t do it, not with him or anyone else. And if that was a happiness he wanted out of life, who was she to deny him seeking out someone who could actually give it to him? 

So she made the decision to ride out the wave of them being an item as long as she possibly could, enjoy it for as long as it was around. And it hurt, because she loved him–really, _really_ loved him. She had trouble saying the words out loud to anyone for the longest time. But with him? It felt good. Right. She didn’t even think it was possible for her to be that happy in a stable relationship with someone, having become more accustomed to short, turbulent flings and one-night stands that were purely to sate a physical need. He’d come out of no where and knocked the wind out of her, made her crave him like a man lost in the desert craved water, just by being himself. She’d been in denial at first, irritated even that someone could occupy so much headspace without even asking. Letting herself fall in deep had been the better decision. 

She couldn't’ say that she’d made peace with their inevitable end, though. She told herself she had, even though the idea had punched a hole through her ribcage and made every moment with him ache ever so slightly. 

It was a bit worse now that the word _marriage_ had come up. Not from Jaal at first, from Scott, teasing her that he’d been her longest standing relationship ever, shouldn’t she lock it down before something else caught her attention? And she’d smacked him because he was an _idiot,_ but she hated to admit that he was an idiot with a point. Only a year and a half, and she could actually find herself able to imagine a future with him, a future she wanted, and wasn’t that something?

She would stop herself before the domestic fantasy got too far though, because it would come up even in her mind, the question of children, the expectation of _motherhood_. It was awful. She would cut the dream off before it could take one step further–usually ending in a very tearful divorce and her spending the rest of her life by herself. She’d travelled across galaxies and slept for over six hundred years to find one love. There was no way in hell she would ever get that lucky again. 

Subconsciously, the worry made her distant with him too. She didn’t pick up on it much herself, having a tendency to get far too wrapped up in her own head to be cognizant of much outside of it. But she was quieter when they were alone, struggling to talk about everything and nothing as they usually did. There was a delay in returning physical affections. She paced more often and bounced her leg when they sat together, unable to keep her body still if her mind was not as peace. And her sex drive had decreased too. She’d gone from pawing at him whenever they had even a moment of peace to going so far as to deny him when he asked for her, citing over-tiredness or, god help her, _work_ reasons.

“Reports won’t file themselves,” she’d joked lamely one night, borrowing a quote from Cora as she shuffled off meekly into another area away from him. He hadn’t questioned her, of course, she knew he wouldn’t, but the dejected look in his eyes was enough for her to lock herself in the bathroom for the next hour. She’d stared herself down hard in the mirror, willing herself to _not cry_ because she absolutely wasn’t allowed to in this situation.  The Pathfinder did not cry because of something she created for herself. 

It didn’t stop her from cocooning herself in her bed on the Tempest the next day, asking for SAM to bar her door from any who wanted to get in. She was allowed to wallow in the face of the best thing she’d ever had ending. She was allowed to take her day off to be a depressed bastard on her own time. 

As always, the universe had other plans for her.

Typical, really. 

“Pathfinder, Jaal is attempting to access your door. I have taken the liberty to inform him of your request to be undisturbed at this time. However, I suggest that it would be in your best interest to allow him access.”

“Do you now,” she grumbled, rolling her eyes at the AI. He really did pick the worst times to learn from her. 

“Indeed. This issue has been affecting you physically and emotionally for some time now, and data suggests that it will not get better if you do not face it soon.” 

She made an incoherent noise of frustration in the back of her throat, because fuck it all, he was right. He was right and she knew it. At some point, no matter what the outcome would be, they would need to speak about what was going on with her. 

“Pathfinder, you do care for him. Do you not agree that he deserves to know your current thought process in regards to this romantic pursuit?”

“Oh for fuck’s _sake_ , SAM,” she hissed, as she turned more into the blankets as if that would somehow drown his smug voice out. It wouldn’t, of course, nor would it change the fact that he was right. It was the final nail in the coffin, so to speak. 

“ _Fine_ , fine, he can come in–everyone else can fuck right off though, and until I exit this room, that includes you,” she sighed defeatedly, only a slight warning in her voice (honestly, what could she do to an AI?). 

“Of course, Pathfinder.” He sounded far more self-satisfied than he normally did, and that was really saying something. If he’d had a physical form she would’ve thrown something at him. 

The doors opened with a soft mechanical _whoosh_. SAM’s voice no longer in her ear, she could properly listen as Jaal’s feet made their way across the floor to her. Her immediate response was to pull the blanket tighter around her body. Maybe if she could disappear into the void, she could avoid this conversation like she’d been avoiding everything else. 

He stopped before the bed, and for a moment all she could hear in the room was the sound of her own heartbeat and the blood rushing in her ears. He spoke first, because of course he did, because if one of them could be trusted to be the adult, it was usually him. 

“SAM told me that you had initially planned to spend today by yourself,” he said softly, like he was afraid she would bolt at any second (a fair assumption, she’d done it before when he made the first few attempts at closeness, and she’d panicked).

“I did, yeah. Changed my mind, though. You get to be the exception.” Her laugh was hoarse and humourless. 

“So I see.” There was a pause, like he was deciding his next move, and then, “Would it be alright if I sat?”

She nodded, before she remembered that he couldn’t see her head. “Yeah, that’s okay.” The dip she felt in the mattress told her that he’d heard. He sat near her torso, purely by chance, and she could feel the warmth radiating off his body. A living furnace was what he was, and she loved it because she had a near-superhuman inability to retain any body heat of her own. 

“I don’t see any point in ‘beating around the bush’ as human slang says.” Blunt, straightforward, yet gentle with her, as always. She wanted to cry. 

“Something is bothering you,” he said simply, “something about us.” 

Mentally, she kicked herself. Of course he’d noticed–Jaal wasn’t an idiot by any stretch. He was one of the most intuitive and aware people she’d ever met, how could she think he wouldn’t pick up on her odd behaviour lately? Or maybe she’d just been hoping it hadn’t been as obvious as it was. 

(It was very obvious.)

Timidly, she unwrapped herself slightly. She wanted to look at him, as much as she knew it would hurt. But she needed to make herself do it. Slowly, she pushed herself up into a sitting position, facing him and letting the bedding gather up around her legs. She was sure she was a sight, hair a mess and eye makeup smudged down her face. Well, he’d seen her at her best, her worst, and even most debauched. It didn’t really matter how she looked at this point. 

“Well–I mean, yes–no– _kind of_.” She settled on that. It was close enough to the truth, at least, without saying as much. She rubbed her hands together nervously, noting that they had become considerably more clammy since he started talking. “It’s not like–It’s not us. Or you. It’s really just… It’s me and my own hang-ups, I guess.” 

He waited for her to continue quietly, observing her as she rubbed her temples out of stress and frustration. Getting her to speak on difficult and/or personal subjects was… a task, he knew. The best course of action would be just to wait until she’d made her statement without interrupting, torturous as it may have been to watch her wrench it out so slowly. 

“Your hang-ups,” he repeated. 

“Mm, yeah. Just, uh, bracing for the inevitable I guess.” She pulled her knees up to her chest, her already small frame folding in on itself. 

The answer seemed to confuse him, though. “The inevitable? What is this ‘inevitable’ you’re talking about?” He moved closer to her, a hand hesitantly hovering over her leg, as if he was deciding if she would allow touch at the moment. She looked so, so tightly wound, ready to snap and flee but probably too tired to move. He wanted to touch her, to hold her and reassure her that whatever it was that had been prodding at her mind for weeks couldn’t be all that bad. Not after what they’d already been through. 

He decided that it would be acceptable to offer physicality, albeit just a small amount. A hand on the leg was probably all he could get away with without her pulling away, and though it wasn’t as much as he wanted to offer, it would have to do. 

“Oh, you know,” she laughed, sniffing slightly as she unconsciously leaned into the touch. “The part where we end ‘cause I can’t– _do_ certain things with you that you probably want and you deserve to have everything and I shouldn’t be the thing that hold you back because we all have a limited time to live and why shouldn’t you go out and be happy with whoever _can_ do those things and have those things and I know that person won’t be me and we’ve been together for a bit and I know at some point you’ve thought about the future like I have only I don’t think I can ever live up to that expectation like _ever_ and–and–and–”

The words came out in a ridiculous rush for air all at once, and it was a miracle the translator picked up on it between the sheer speed and force of the words and the shallow, shaky breaths. _She would not cry, not in front of him, not over this._

(She could already tell she was going to do exactly that no matter what, but her denial reached very far.)

“Now, hold on. Just slow down, okay?” She _hated_ how concerned he looked for her right now, how his eyes did the thing and he moved forward to catch her face between his hands, steadying her. She hated herself even more for pressing into him.

“Look at me, Cat. Breathe, slowly. You’re doing that thing Scott warned me about where you get too worked up and you lose focus. Just breathe for now.” 

She did as she was told, inhaling deeply, still shaking, trying to get some sort of grip on herself. “Scott told you about that, did he?” she exhaled, willing her voice to stop sounding so goddamn _small_. 

“He’s shared with me many of your… idiosyncrasies since I’ve known him. Things I would not have known to look for. For example, the way you tend to aggressively avoid something that bothers you until it reaches a breaking point.” He shifted closer towards her, facing her less awkwardly now. “And I think I’m correct in assuming that’s what’s happening right now. Is it?” 

_Scott, you fucker._  “Yeah. Yeah, that’s pretty much what all… this is.” She balled her fists up in the blankets, flexing her fingers to release some of the tension in her arms. It didn’t work, but she kept doing it in hope that the slow, receptive motion would bring her down. 

“Just tell me. Summarize it in one sentence. We can work on it together if you need to.” 

She’d faced armies of Kett. Watched people she loved die. Made more sacrifices than she’d ever thought possible for one person. And still rose every day faced with the distinct possibility of having to do the same thing all over. 

_Why was this one thing so fucking difficult?_

She couldn’t look at him. 

“I can’t have kids. Ever. Not even if it’s with you. I can’t do it. I can’t–I can’t–I _can’t_ and it’s not _fair_ if that’s something you want because I can’t give it to you.” 

Against her will, her emotions betrayed her, mossy green eyes beginning to fill with water and leak down her slightly sunken cheeks (ah, yes, eating normally–another thing that she’d been neglecting during all of this. She wondered absently just how much weight she’d lost and if he’d noticed or not). 

“ _Taoshay_ ,” he prompted gently, still cradling her face, now using the side of his thumbs to wipe away the tears. The Angaran pet name pierced her heart like nothing else could have, and she was almost sure this would be the last time she heard it directed towards her. 

“Look up here at me.” 

Once more, she did as she was told. She could have denied the request, of course, but she didn’t. She had a very hard time denying him anything. But this was something she couldn’t budge on. She faced him with glassy, puffy eyes, snivelling quietly. She’d always been a gross crier, and self-conscious of it too. She was the tough sibling, after all. The scrapper who got into too many fights as a kid and carried that chip on her shoulder into her twenties. She wasn’t allowed to be an ugly crier like this. 

And then, before she could move to react, she found herself being pulled into a very soft, all-encompassing hug. Jaal was all around her at once, warm and solid and real, smelling like the Angara perfumes she’d come to associate with a sense of safety and home. It was a struggle not to cry harder. She managed, but barely, tremors passing through her body as she kept herself sort of contained. 

“Let me see if I understand this,” he said, using one hand to stroke her hair and the other to keep her pressed into him. “You’ve been so neurotic–for weeks, may I point out–over a hypothetical situation where we break up over a difference in lifestyle desires, because you made a natural assumption that we would eventually progress to discussions of starting a family.” It wasn’t put meanly, but it was the truth. She was a little envious of the way he was able to pin it down so clearly from her mess of tangled thoughts. 

She nodded stiffly, not making a move to pull back from his arms. “That’s it. Yeah. That’s why. And I don’t want to… I don’t want to _lose_ you, Jaal. But…” she trailed off near the end, struggling to find the right words. It was always hard. 

“But you’re worried that this is an irreconcilable issue,” he continued for her, “And you like people to assume that you’re colder than you are, because it is a sort of… emotional protection from getting hurt. A barrier. But you aren’t, and you would not have it in you to continue in this relationship with me if it meant knowing I was unhappy with your desires.” 

She laughed wetly into his chest. “And I thought SAM was the only one inside my head. No, yeah, that’s exactly it. Everything. It’s true. It’s stupid, but then again I’m an absolute idiot about this sort of thing so…” 

He was quiet for a moment, thinking. She occupied herself by listening to the rhythm of his heart and running her fingers along the edge of the _Rofjinn_. It felt… well, it didn’t feel great to have it out like that, to have such a personal aspect of her soul laid bare, even with someone she loved. She was good at tricking people into thinking she was open, by being loud and funny and brash, but the truth of that matter was that it was an extremely carefully crafted ruse. In truth, she was an extremely private person, almost to her fault. She wanted it to be difficult for people to get a read on her, make it a challenge for them to see past the sharp tongue and the flippant attitude. It was uncomfortable, sometimes, how easily he was able to pick that apart. And sometimes she was grateful for it. She wasn’t sure where she stood right now. 

“It's not stupid,” he said finally. “You internalize. Unheard of for Angara, but I suspect it’s commonplace with humans. Perhaps you’re just a little worse for it than most.” She could hear the bemused, tired smile at the end of his voice. 

She tried her best to shrug. “Yeah, well, I don’t like bothering other people with my issues. It’s not their problem.” 

“And yet, dealing with them yourself doesn’t seem to get you closer to solutions.”

“Sometimes it does.”

She felt the sigh before she heard it. “Sometimes.” 

They stayed quiet like that for some time. She was still rattled, of course she was, but better than before. At least, her pulse had stopped racing somewhat. 

He was the one to move first. He shifted his hands so that they settled on her narrow shoulders, nudging her back so that he could look at her face once more. A pretty face, he’d decided quite some time ago. By human standards, she was an attractive woman, with the long black hair, dark green eyes and the small frame. The dark makeup she often wore tended to draw attention to the angry looking scar that ran from her temple to cheekbone, and he decided that it was one of his favourite features on her. By his personal standards, she was the most alluring creature he’d ever set eyes on, even now in her disarray. 

“You do know that I have no plans to leave you for this, don’t you? Please know that… expanding this union isn’t the only reason I stayed. The only future I see for us. To tell you the truth, it hasn’t even been something that crossed my mind until now.” 

To her horror, his eyes had begun watering too. 

“I–wait, it’s not even something you’ve thought about? But when we visited your family you seemed so… I dunno. Content I guess. Comfortable.” 

It was difficult for her to believe, even though she knew he wasn’t going to lie to her about something as important as this. 

“Well, yes. Of course I was. They’re family. I grew up there. But that does not mean I see it as a necessity for myself to create something similar.” 

She scooted closer to him, taking his hands down from her shoulders and holding them in her own. It never stopped surprising her just how small her hands looked next to his. Or how right it was in her mind. 

“I knew… I knew that when I started pursuing you, there would be differences between us. Culturally. Physically. Emotionally. I knew it would be nothing like pursuing another Angara, and so I’ve learned not to have expectations.” Upon seeing the look she gave him, he laughed, for real this time, and explained. “I don’t mean anything bad by it. It’s a matter of expecting the unexpected, so to speak. By all accounts, you and I are the first Human-Angara couple in history.”

“That’s true, isn’t it,” she agreed softly. “I guess… God, Jaal. I don’t know. It’s just something I’ve always been told I’d want to do–or _have_ to do–eventually. That I’d change my mind. That it would stop making me sick to my stomach to even think about. But I never did. And it was never a problem, because, well, it’s always just been _me_. I didn’t stay with anyone until you. And no one else has wanted to stay, either. So I guess I just thought, you know, combined with how it was when we visited…” She sighed. “And like, it’s not like there’s no reason for the reaction. I don’t want to talk about it now, but… some shit happened. And, yeah. Someday I’ll tell you, but I don’t think I’m up to sharing right now.” It was one of those memories that made her feel exceptionally older than her twenty-five years, a recounting that required at least two days of mental preparation.

“I understand. And when you wish to discuss it, or not, I’ll be listening. I won’t press you for it.” He drew her hands up to his mouth and took his time to kiss each finger. “But I assure you, I won’t be going anywhere, unless you decide you want me to. It’s not a requirement for me in our relationship. And I would never ask it of you either, especially knowing how you feel. And besides, it is not as if there won’t be plenty of nieces and nephews for us to fawn over. Only if you want to, of course.” 

She sniffled, laughed a little too, coming out of her crying-induced fog. “Kids are okay if I know I can give them back after the requisite twenty minutes.” And then, she quickly followed it up with, “And I don’t want you to go. Ever. I don’t say it enough, which is stupid because it’s always true, but I love you. More than anything, ever. And I want you to stay with me as long as possible.” 

“A true fool in love,” he teased, kissing her forehead. “I’m not leaving your side. I love you far too much for that.” 

She wriggled closer, curling into him once more. It felt ridiculously light now, having hashed it all out in the open. Better yet, it was the best result she could hope for–keeping the love of her life, having him not only understand but be supportive, _and_ respecting her decision? 

“You make me feel like the luckiest person alive, you know?” 

“Careful, that praise just might go to my head.”

And she honest to God _giggled_ , she giggled because of him and on one hand, she was rolling her eyes at her lovestruck self. On the other, she was more content than she’d ever been. Security and stability were foreign feelings, but they were nice. 

“You know,” she mused, “I’m really glad we talked about this. Like, really glad. Even if you kind of had to wring it out of me. But.”

“But?”

“I’m still not getting up for the rest of today. I made a pact with this bed and I’m lying in it. I even brushed my teeth already so I don’t have to get up.” 

His loud, rumbling laughter sent waves of warmth through her core. They fell backwards in a heap of blankets and limbs. She settled herself down in his chest, knowing full well that she was about to fall asleep at any moment. She was emotionally drained from the talk, small as it may have seemed, and besides, cuddling with Jaal seemed to have that effect on her anyway. 

“I feel like I should probably mention that just ‘cause I don’t want any kids doesn’t mean I’m opposed to like, eternal monogamy though.”

“Eter–do you mean marriage?” He was laughing at her again. “Is that your way of propositioning me, Darling One?”

“Maybe,” she yawned. “Give me a few days and I’ll come up with something that beats making out after showing me your dissected childhood pet.”

“It won you over,” he pointed out. 

“Only ‘cause I’m a freak and you got lucky,” she mumbled, falling already off the edge of consciousness. 

The last thing she was certain she heard was rich laughter that tapered off into a swirl of murmured affections, and she swore she had never got a better night of sleep in her life. 

 

 

 

 


End file.
